


Journeyman

by Katryusha



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, LMAO, M/M, Or not, Sad, USUK - Freeform, it does have an happy ending, tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-19
Updated: 2017-07-19
Packaged: 2018-12-04 00:52:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11544009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katryusha/pseuds/Katryusha
Summary: From the red sky of the east, to the sunset in the west. He understood. They had cheated death, and now death was cheating them. Of course, they weren’t immortal, and this proved just how mortal they ended up being.





	Journeyman

**Author's Note:**

> Major character death… Apocalypse AU, it’s the end of the wooooorrrrlllddddd–
> 
> I cried too much while writing this, but that was just me imagining the scenes cause i don’t know how to write sad stuff very well, so u probably won’t cry. Hahaha 
> 
> Idea based of the song Journeyman by Iron Maiden :v
> 
> It’s 2:50am, y’all. Lmao
> 
> Not Beta-ed.

No one knows how it started. But it had, and no one knew how to stop it. The illness spread like wildfire. No doctors, scientists, geniuses, knew where it came from or how to cure it.

People started losing memories… Sooner or later, they started losing their senses; they became deaf, mute, blind, unable to smell… and eventually they couldn’t even move. And death would soon follow them.

Hospitals started filling up. Countries were thrown into panic.

“Order! Order!” Germany called out, hitting his fist on the table. It was rather useless, yet, he tried.

England glanced at everyone in the room, his eyes eventually settling upon the smaller nations. They couldn’t see, they couldn’t talk anymore. Sealand was among them.

He looked away, not bearing to watch. He had tried to protect him, but the sickness already started affecting him.

As soon as it started, England was quick to react, closing down borders, practically putting his country in isolation, with a bit of magic added in the mix for more protection. Though, that had seemed to help decrease the victims, the problem was that there still were victims.

The other countries had done the same, but being as close to each other as they were, the illness kept spreading. Some rumoured that it spread with the wind, others with the water. No one knew.

Arthur chanced a glance at America, at Alfred, his lover for a few decades now. He was still fine. Which was enough to make him survive another day in these hellish meetings. They had tried to solve this issue, but it was in vain.

Once more they went home without resolving anything, only giving each other an headache.

Arthur caught up with Alfred at the door and gave him a strained smile as he tugged Sealand behind him by the hand. He never left him behind since the ailment started affecting him. He refused to leave him alone at home to get injured or, even worse, arrive and find him… dead.

“Wanna go grab something to eat?” Ever positive Alfred tried to not let the disaster that struck the whole world shake down his mood, although Arthur knew that deep down, he was extremely upset with the whole issue. Principally because of Sealand. After all, Alfred considered Peter much alike a little brother.

One thing the nations knew for sure: The disease only affected them through their people, the more their people got infected, the more they succumbed to the illness.

And, thus, one day it happened. A nation disappeared. Like a leaf being swept by the wind, it was gone. It started slowly… but surely, one by one, beginning with the smaller nations, they were disappearing.

One day, Arthur opened Sealand’s room to see it empty. The bed devoid of the child he had left there the night before.

One, two, three… The tears fell down his cheeks, and he cried, dropping to his knees at the doorway. America was quick to come to the rescue, seeing the older nation at the door was enough to let him know what had happened of course. And then England was being embraced, and he cried even harder into Alfred’s chest.

He could feel the American’s shoulders shaking with sobs as well, and he hugged him.

Despite not having a body to bury, England demanded a funeral for Sealand, for Peter. And if he wanted, then it would be done.

The Brit was devastated for next few days, but he knew he couldn’t keep going like that forever. And Alfred couldn’t stay with him much longer either, he had to return to his own country. And so, it was.

Two months passed, bigger nations started to become affected. But they still managed just fine.

However, England wasn’t expecting to arrive at a meeting and see Alfred already sat there, with a smile on his face. Although, Arthur eyed him suspiciously. It wasn’t one of his big, happy, mega-watt grins. It was nervous, twitchy, _strained_.

“Good morning, love.” He greeted, pecking his cheek, the American was as if frozen in place, but Arthur could see his fidgety fingers beneath the table, “...Is… Is everything all right…?” He inquired, feeling a spark of anxiousness.

Alfred nodded almost mechanically, giving him a thumb up and a wink. Arthur stared. This time feeling dread creep up on him.

“Alfred… Why aren’t you speaking?” Because normally at this time, he was already babbling Arthur’s ears off. “ _Alfred._ ” He breathed, “If this is a joke you better— You better stop it now!” He felt tears gather in his eyes.

The American stood up, shaking his head and pulling the Brit into his arms, a big, warm hand settled on Arthur’s lower back, gently rubbing circles. They couldn’t stand there forever though; the other nations would be coming soon enough.

Alfred pulled back, hands cupping England’s cheeks as his thumbs wiped away the tears at the corner of his eyes. The American smiled, a big, real grin this time. He tugged at Arthur’s cheeks to make him smile as well.

And England stood there with a rather awkward smile on his face as he stared at his lover, in his mind he was already trying to accept the fact.

The countdown had started.

Soon, Alfred would disappear as well.

He thought he could’ve protected him. He thought he could’ve protected Sealand. And he was failing to both of them miserably. The pain across his face couldn’t have been more obvious to the American. Though, Alfred simply smiled before kissing his forehead and bringing him into another hug.

Yet, it was time for another meeting after so long. The nations started entering the room, eyeing the embraced duo for a moment, wondering what could’ve happened most probably, but it was rather obvious what had happened.

Eventually, they sat down as well. England had grasped America’s hand and hadn’t let go.

The damage on everyone was noticeable.

Very few nations were left intact, England being one of them. Oh, but what he would give to switch with his lover.

“These reunions are solving nothing.” The Russian nation stated, glancing at everyone… What was left of them. Ivan rubbed his big nose, the lack of being able to smell affecting him slightly but not enough to actually disturb the sturdy nation.

Many nations, the ones that could hear, nodded in agreement.

Canada stood up from his chair, being noticed for once. He counted with his bear to guide him since he lost his vision.

“I think…” The Canadian started quietly, “We should stop the meetings. Since we aren’t solving anything like this… I would rather stay back in my country to help my people.”

England squeezed America’s hand. The American glanced at him and squeezed back.

The meeting ended in agreement. No more reunions. Everyone followed their own path.

Arthur didn’t let go of Alfred.

And together they stayed. In England.

They kept watching the news. But sometimes Arthur couldn’t bear to watch them anymore. There were no more good news.

Governments had fallen. Countries had fallen. Societies had fallen. Time passed by, and it only got worse. People dying left and right, there weren’t enough people alive and well to take care of the dead ones. They started piling up everywhere. On the hospitals, in alleys, in streets. No one could do anything. The sickness seemed to start affecting animals as well.

Food was scarce. One day not even the telly was working anymore. Electricity went out as well… Fortunately, England had a little well in his backyard, but still.

America had taken the habit of making shadows with his hands. England would be on one side of the room and suddenly there would be the dark shape of those silly hearts on the wall next to him. He would turn and there America would be making the signs with his hands with a smile on his face.

Even though his vision was worsening.

It was silly, but cute, and Arthur couldn’t stop the smile that formed on his face every time that Alfred made childish stories with the shadows of animals. Arthur would narrate and sometimes even join in in making the shadows to add more characters.

It didn’t last long. Although his vision had been worsening, Alfred lost his hearing first.

Arthur could almost hear the bells ring. The countdown to Alfred’s demise kept going. And the Brit was still trying to assure himself that it would be okay, because, sooner or later he would go too, right?

The people in his country had been dying, although at a lesser rate, yet he still didn’t show any symptoms.

One day, Alfred decided that they should go out. Arthur stared at him as if he had grown a second head.

“Are you mad?” He had inquired out of habit even though the American couldn’t hear him anymore. Alfred shrugged and grabbed a backpack. “Alfred!” Arthur placed a hand on his shoulder turning him around to face him. The American could read his lips very well. “We can’t simply go out like this! I know your vision is deteriorating but haven’t you seen how outside is?!”

The American shrugged again and started to put food and other sorts of things inside the bag. England stared at him.

They had lost contact with the rest of the world, but it was obvious how the world had become. Wastelands filled with nothing but death and dust.

England exhaled and touched America’s arm to get his attention.

“Please… Just tell me why do you want to go?” He asked quietly, feeling defeated, because he could never refuse his lover anything, and even less when he was like this.

Alfred grabbed the white board that he had been carrying around for a long while now, and wrote:

_“I want to see your land one last time before I go.”_

England gaped as he read the writing, his breath catching in his throat, he felt a painful pang in his heart.

“What— What do you mean one last time before you go, git? You’re not going anywhere, anytime soon.” He replied, forcing a smile onto his face, the words felt heavy on his tongue, the knot in his throat hurt.

America just looked at him. Just looked at him with those blue eyes, and with a soft smile, brows slightly furrowed. He erased the board and then wrote again:

_“I want to see your country.”_

England choked out a laugh, rubbing at his eyes before grabbing another bag and starting to fill it up.

And there they went. Packed with food and blankets and other sorts of things, because Alfred wanted it to be a big trip. And England wasn’t going to deny him that.

Through green fields and hills, they walked, hand in hand. They stayed far from towns and cities, only watching them from afar. Keeping to the countryside, they walked and walked.

As evening arrived, they chose a place to sleep. They made a fire, pulled out their blankets and as night came by they enjoyed the fire (praying to the high heavens that it wouldn’t rain), made more silly stories with shadows and then settled down together to gaze at the stars.

It was a lovely night as they cuddled together, bundled beneath more blankets and slept. They woke up with the sunrise, they watched it together and smiled at each other in contentment.

Then, they packed everything and continued their journey.

Over more fields and hills, through forests and big orchards with all kinds of trees.

As evening arrived once more, they settled beneath an apple tree. Once more bundled up beneath blankets as they sat against the tree’s bark. England gazed at the stars quietly as he leaned against America.

The next few days and nights were practically the same.

This night however was much more quiet than the before, but Arthur didn’t mind the quietness. His hand searched Alfred’s underneath the covers and interlaced their fingers.

Arthur squeezed. Alfred squeezed back.

As morning rose, Arthur groaned, burying his face in Alfred’s shoulder to try and ignore the sun a few more moments.

England gripped America’s hand.

And immediately sat up, looking down at his lover who was gazing at him with barely open eyes.

“Alfred?” He felt a sob rise in his throat, the American couldn’t move anymore. He cradled his hand to his chest, looking down at him. “ _Alfred… No…_ ” The tears started rolling down his cheeks, “Please— Don’t go... _Don’t leave me!_ ” He cried, sobbing into Alfred’s chest.

Wind blew through his hair, he looked up at his lover through tear stained eyes, he stared intently as Alfred’s lips moved.

_‘Keep walking. We’ll meet again. I love you. Thank you.’_ The movements were slow and forceful and rather sloppy, almost as if America had forgotten how to talk… Which was possible. But England understood.

He understood every word. And he smiled, because Alfred adored to see him smile, and Arthur wanted that to be the last image he had of him, even though he was still crying like a baby.

And then… Arthur was grasping air. There was nothing if not the memory of the person he treasured the most. It was cruel that the sky was clear and sunny, but it also fit Alfred. Because Alfred was made of joy and freedom and the weather represented just that with the sunny beams and the blue, blue sky, like his eyes.

England wept and sobbed and had snot running down his nose the whole day. In the evening, he packed everything and instead of staying, he kept walking.

From the red sky of the east, to the sunset in the west. He understood. They had cheated death, and now death was cheating them. Of course, they weren’t immortal, and this proved just how mortal they ended up being.

For a brief moment, Arthur wanted to look back, where he and Alfred had been so content last night. Then he shook his head and kept walking, behind he had only left the American’s glasses which he had buried together with his dog tags.

Evening turned into night, but he didn’t stop walking. This time he didn’t avoid towns or cities. He just kept walking. And walking.

The rotted smell of the corpses didn’t bother him, perhaps he was finally losing one of his senses. Though, his vision was still well, and he could see the destruction that had taken place. It was heart-breaking.

There was no one.

For all he knew, he was the only one left. He was alone. He was just waiting for his death.

It was as he wandered through a forest that he came across another painful experience. It was his friend, Unicorn. Fallen on the ground. Its shiny coat no longer sparkling, his soft mane was grey and ugly, his eyes no longer held its own magic. He was gone…

Now, Arthur just felt numb. Why did this had to happen? Why did he have to be the last one? Why did Alfred had leave before him? Why? _Why? Why?_

A glowing fay appeared, stumbling through the air as her tiny wings stopped working. She landed at his feet and he kneeled, taking her in his hands.

“England,” She coughed, “I’m sorry.” She rasped out in a low voice, “We— We tried to protect you—” She stammered out. So, that’s why Arthur had managed to go on this long, but now they had reached a dead end.

Despite everything, that brought a smile to his face. A relieved smile.

“It’s all right.” He told her, because it was. He sat down, still holding the little fay in his hands, her glow diminishing by the second… until it faded completely and she moved no more.

Arthur leaned against a tree and waited. And waited.

Perhaps that was just a dream. And that’s what it meant, they were sleeping and they’ll keep on sleeping forevermore.

Arthur remembered their last time together; the shadows they made with their hands, the times they gazed at the stars. Perhaps they would meet there, in the stars.

He turned to the light burning in the night and, painlessly, like the wind sweeping through him, he was no more.

And everything was gone.

* * *

“Yao! Yao!” The child called out, dirt and grass covering his rather expensive clothes from head to toe. He knew he would be scolded once the Chinese man saw him, but it was already routine. “Yao! Look what I found!”

The boy ran through the forest, through bushes, and dodging trees. Cradling two very odd things to his chest.

And then he toppled over and landed on his face with a groan. The youngster turned around, rubbing blue, blue eyes free of tears, because _no, he was not hurt_.

Glancing to see what had made him fall, he came face to face with another kid. Smaller than him, clad only with what looked like a very overused dress and a heavy, dark cloak.

“Hey,” He tried, approaching the other carefully. Seemed to be sleeping, not even with him tripping over him awoke him.

This was no place to sleep! He was going to be a hero and save this youngster from freezing to death in the middle of the woods!

“Wake up!” He shouted loudly, this time he managed to make the smaller blond jump startled. He laughed at the smaller’s expression and neared him, “Hello!” He greeted, staring into green, green eyes. The colour much alike the one they were surrounded by.

“H-Hello?” The boy attempted, his tongue seemed to roll and trip over the simple word.

“I’m Alfred!” Alfred said enthusiastic, but eyeing him oddly, “What’s your name? Why do you have two caterpillars above your eyes?” He asked, boldly advancing towards the boy who seemed to shrink into himself at the approximation.

“Hum…”

“Why aren’t you speaking?” Alfred inquired, tilting his head. The other boy, with messy blond hair, green, green eyes, and caterpillar for eyebrows leaned away from him, scared. “It’s okay!” He assured, thinking of a way to get the other to talk to him. Looking down at the two things in his hand, he pondered for a moment before offering one to the other blond, “Here.” He said simply.

The other boy, confused, accepted the necklace which Alfred had found.

“I found that beneath an old apple tree on the field behind this forest! It was like treasure hunting!” He informed cheerfully, then he leaned down and grabbed the other boy’s hand. “Come with me, I’ll get Yao and we’ll get you some new clothes! And call your parents of course!”

The green-eyed boy stared at him with furrowed fuzzy brows, and then simply nodded, not knowing what else to do.

Alfred squeezed his hand, Arthur subconsciously squeezed back, Alfred beamed at him, “To the castle of Spades we go!”


End file.
